


Maybe Next Time

by finefeatheredfriend



Series: Why Can't We Be Friends? (AKA Wholesome Shorts) [3]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Gen, Mostly Wholesome, with a bit of bad language and flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 23:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19451716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finefeatheredfriend/pseuds/finefeatheredfriend
Summary: Adelaide Drubman decides to harass Sheriff Whitehorse. Shenanigans ensue.





	Maybe Next Time

The slap came out of absolutely nowhere, making his left cheek sting suddenly. His eyebrows flew up and he stumbled forward, rubbing at his offended backside in extreme irritation as he turned to face his enemy. She was wearing a mischievous smirk and her eyes glittered dangerously, daring him to challenge her. A beleaguered Sheriff Earl Whitehorse let out an annoyed sigh and put his hands on his hips, stepping away from the seeking hands of one Adelaide Drubman.

“Adelaide, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, I could consider that assault on a police officer,” he huffed out, moving his hands from his hips to cross instead over his chest protectively as her lascivious gaze took him in, taking extra time just below his belt. He felt the sudden urgent need to cover his crotch defensively with his hands with the way she was ogling him like he was a particularly well-marbled steak she had just spotted at the butcher’s shop. The woman was a menace, no question.

“Well, Sheriff,” she began, the way she said his title sending an electric shiver down his spine, “I guess you’ll have to use those cuffs on me,” and she reached around behind him quicker than he could escape, unsnapping his cuffs from his belt and pinching his ass for good measure. He had to be careful with what he said here, eyes were starting to be drawn to them. He could not make a scene in front of all the other Cougars in the Hope County Jail, especially given the innocent, questioning look he saw on Virgil Minkler’s face and the amused leer on Tracey’s as they watched Adelaide go after her prey like a shark that has scented blood in the water.

“I think you had better go and find Rook, Ms. Drubman,” Earl advised, dropping his voice to a near-conspiratorial whisper as he plucked his cuffs from her grip and put them back on his belt.

“Oh, come on now, hon, she’s up there somewhere takin’ a nap,” Adelaide replied loudly, drawing attention to them once again as she pointed to the second storey cells. She put her hand on his upper arm, squeezing the muscle there appreciatively. “You know, we could take a nap too, though I don’t know if I can guarantee you’ll get much sleep.” She waggled her eyebrows at him and Earl felt his cheeks go crimson. He sniffed and shuffled his feet, embarrassed and unsure how to respond to such an outright comment in front of so many others. He made eye contact with Tracey across the hall, his eyes pleading “please come save me,” as best they could. With a little annoyed roll of her eyes, Tracey dropped her cigarette and stomped it flat with her boot before picking up the butt and tossing it in the garbage. She then wandered over nonchalantly, to Earl’s great relief. His relief, however, was short-lived.

“You know, I always took you for more of a cradle-robber than a grave-robber, Adelaide,” Tracey commented.

“Hey!” both Earl and Adelaide protested simultaneously, both insulted. Earl looked at Adelaide for a moment and then Tracey, his nostrils flaring a little.

“I’ll have you know I’m eleven years younger than Ms. Drubman,” he huffed. Adelaide whirled, her face suddenly furious and horrified.

“Don’t tell everyone that, Sheriff,” she snapped. “Besides, how do you know?”

“Well, for a start you’ve been given at least ten traffic citations in the past three years,” he mumbled, jamming his thumbs in his pockets awkwardly. “Your birthdate’s on your driver’s license.” Appraising him for a moment, Adelaide studied him with a little tick of her jaw and arrived at a conclusion.

“Well. You must have been payin’ close attention to me to remember my birthday, Sheriff,” she remarked. “That’s gotta mean something.” Earl’s eyes flickered in a movement that was not quite a roll.

“It means you and your immediate family are an enormous pain in my ass so I keep tabs on you. Happy?” he griped, losing his temper suddenly.

“I’m staying out of this,” Tracey commented, walking off. Both the sheriff and Adelaide hollered after her.

“You started this!” Earl and Adelaide looked at one another again, both their cheeks mottled red from embarrassment and anger. Unbidden, Earl felt his heart start beating a little harder, a little faster than it should and he forced himself to take a calming breath.

“Well,” Adelaide said, tucking a strand of blonde hair delicately behind her ear. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Earl’s mouth gaped like a fish. He could see he had actually hurt her feelings quite badly and that did not sit well with him. The Drubmans and the Boshaws, as eccentric and troublesome as they could be, were also two very kind and very loyal families. They helped campaign for him every election cycle since his first appointment as sheriff of Hope county. Adelaide had even come over to his trailer with a crate of movies, a massive pot of venison stew and some blankets the winter he had had his heart attack, checking in on him to make sure he was alright after he had come home from the hospital in Billings. She had even brought his new heart medication from the local pharmacy, insisting it was the least she could do since both her son Hurk and nephew Sharky had played a not-insubstantial role in his having a stress-induced heart attack. Rubbing a hand sheepishly over the place on his chest where he sported a massive zipper-like scar from open-heart surgery, Earl felt a twinge of guilt.

Adelaide Drubman deserved better than to be insulted and summarily dismissed. Without thinking, Earl reached out suddenly as he walked after her and grabbed her left arm with his right hand, tugging a bit. She whirled around, lost her balance and stumbled into his chest where he caught her gently. She smelled…nice he realized suddenly, like roses and citrus flowers. She looked up into his face and a small smile settled on her full lips. “Well, well, Sheriff,” she purred, feeling his chest. “You might have a bit of a beer belly and love handles, but you’re still built like a Kentucky stud horse.” Earl spluttered for a moment before pushing her out to a more appropriate distance. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Virgil’s flabbergasted stare at the two of them in such an intimate pose.

“His mane leaves a bit to be wanted, though,” Rook teased as she walked up unannounced, rubbing at her eyes and yawning.

“I didn’t come here to be insulted,” Earl mumbled, a little hurt by the comment. He straightened his hat self-consciously over his receding hairline. “Thought you were taking a nap?”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t sleep with all the commotion down here.”

“Here,” Earl said, handing Rook his keys and nodding toward the warden’s office where he had drug a bed so that he could rest in privacy. “You can nap in my room, Rook.” Earl saw Adelaide deflate a bit, but ignored it.

“Oh. Thanks, Sheriff.”

“Make another comment about my hair, though, and I’ll make you sleep on the roof,” he promised. Rook smirked and walked off, twirling his keyring on her index finger and whistling one of those damn cult hymns that had a tendency to get stuck in your head. Earl turned to Adelaide where she stood fiddling with her fingernails.

“Well. So much for my nap offer,” she murmured, giving him a sultry look that made him feel things he hadn’t really thought about in months. He considered her for a moment, considered all the times she had come on to him and he had refused. The first time had been many years back when he was still a twenty-something bull rider, tough and fit and with all his hair, and she was a thirty-something stripper with a body that…well, that frankly looked just as good now poured into those jeans and that low-cut blouse. He had turned her down that first time, and every time since. But now, both of them dead-tired of dealing with this cult and feeling run-down, a little “morale boost” might do them both some good, he thought, temptation flooding him.

“I’m gonna step outside, have myself a smoke,” he told her.

“I don’t suppose I could bum one?” she asked a little shamefacedly. “I usually smoke Virginia Slims, but with these goddamn Peggies around, I haven’t been able to get my hands on any. Makin’ my hands shake somethin’ awful,” she admitted.

“Of course,” he said, handing her one of his Marlboros as they stepped outside. He lighted his and she leaned in close to his face, touching the end of her cigarette to his and sucking to get it started, all while making eye contact with him. He stepped back when she had successfully lit hers and took a long drag from his, attributing his sudden light-headedness to the rough smoke filling his lungs. He knew he really ought to stop, but he figured he deserved a vice or three while dealing with a cult that had taken over his entire jurisdiction. “Sorry,” he muttered as the wind blew his exhaled smoke toward Adelaide.

“Oh, honey, I don’t mind if you blow in my face,” she told him with a wink, cocking her hip up and putting one hand there while the other held her cigarette. Earl felt himself go red again, but he chuckled warmly at her joke. He was bad at this, always had been, even when he was young and considerably better-looking than he thought of himself now. “Would you look at that?” she commented. “You actually laughed instead of snapping my head off.”

“Come on, now,” he said softly with a nervous smile, showing surprisingly clean teeth for all his years of smoking.

“Why didn’t you ever give me a try?” she asked him seriously, pointblank. His caterpillar eyebrows rose, and he thought for a moment, using a drag of his cigarette to buy himself time. He let his eyes go distant and twisted his lips a little wistfully, thinking of his ex-wife and how badly the divorce five years ago had hurt. Guiltily, he fiddled with the wedding ring he was still wearing, a band of white gold that didn’t really mean anything anymore, was just a way of discouraging anyone from trying to get close to him.

“Because,” he answered honestly, “I’m a one-woman sort of man. I know it’s old fashioned, but I don’t like the idea of sleepin’ around with someone you don’t care about, someone you don’t know.” Adelaide frowned a little.

“You coulda known me, if you’d given me the time of day once upon a time.” Earl stared at her and then looked down at his dusty boots. Looking back up, he reached out with a hand and tucked an escaped strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned slightly into his touch and he didn’t remove his hand.

“Maybe I should have,” he admitted softly, his thumbnail clicking against her hoop earring.

“Bit too late for that now,” Adelaide commented, stepping back so that Earl’s hand dropped from the side of her face awkwardly.

“What do you want from me?” Earl asked, frowning, tired of games.

“You want the honest answer, Sheriff?”

“Earl,” he corrected her. She nodded.

“I want to forget, for just a little while, that all this shit is going on. I want to forget that my friends stabbed me in the back, and that my life is in shambles ever since this fucking cult came to town and started fuckin’ shit up.”

“I can’t give you that.” Adelaide scoffed.

“All I’m askin’ is for one night, Earl. That’s all, no strings, just you and me, a bottle of whiskey and a damn good time.”

“Addy…”

“Nope. You don’t get to call me that,” she informed him, clearly irritated. Earl deflated a little.

“I can’t,” he told her, voice hesitant. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. Her features went cold, steely.

“Alright. Well. Maybe the next time the world is ending,” she suggested sarcastically.

“Yeah,” he agreed, but in a more earnest tone than hers. “Maybe next time.” Her eyes looked lonely and hurt as she turned away from him, stubbing out her cigarette though it was only halfway burned.

She was almost inside when Earl’s resolve crumbled.

Earl stepped after her and grabbed her arm, yanking her around again. Her body was rigid under his touch, defensive and for a moment it looked like she might slap him – on the face this time. Without question or warning, Earl crushed his mouth to hers and she melted, her body softening against his as she opened to his kiss, running one hand up his side and into his hair, knocking his Stetson a little askew, as the other crawled down and cupped him though his pants. He jumped a little and grunted at the sudden grasp of his most intimate parts and he could feel her smiling through the kiss. Her grip loosened and she grabbed his hand instead, depositing something in his palm before she stepped back and pushed him away, wiping her lower lip with her thumb and straightening her headband.

“Sorry, Sheriff,” she drawled, with a little impish wink. “Maybe next time.” Adelaide vanished back inside the jail without another word, Earl looking after her, thunderstruck. He shook himself and opened his hand, looking at the object sitting in his wide palm. A bark of laughter dropped out of his chest as he looked at the labelled key sitting there.

“Drubman Marina, Guest Suite.”

Earl found himself less amused when he discovered that she had cuffed his other hand to the chain link fence next to the door – and Rook had his keys.


End file.
